


Polar

by manamune (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Barebacking, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Pining, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 02:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8384449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/manamune
Summary: Keith is with him, and no one else. He tells himself that until he falls asleep, and again when he wakes up to an empty bed.





	

Lance tightens the ropes around Keith’s wrists and drags a finger down his spine, watching the muscles in his back jerk and shift underneath his touch. Keith has long given up on struggling, and lays pliant now on Lance’s bed, eyes shut and mind lost, free from the stress of saving the universe.

Lance could tell while Keith was flying earlier that today would be one of these days. Where he would come back to his room to find Keith face-down, hands placed firmly over his lower back, waiting for Lance to punish him for the minor mistakes he made while fighting.

Except Lance is much more content to break Keith apart, thread by thread, until he’s moaning, not screaming; and since he’s the one in control, he allows himself to do exactly that.

* * *

Keith is on his knees, lips pressed to the front of Lance’s pants. They’ve ended up here a dozen times in the past month by skirting around Allura’s instructions and Shiro’s attentiveness to their whereabouts. It has to be quick, else someone will discover them. It’s always dirty, with scrapes ending up on Keith’s knees from how hard they dig into the tiled floor, ones deep enough to remind him of Lance once they part.

Keith is always either controlled or completely released of his inhibitions. Right now it’s the latter; Keith’s hair is messy, matted to his cheeks from his sweat; his eyes flicker to glance at Lance every time he noses directly over his crotch; he gives a coy little smile when Lance bites his lip.

More than simply the act of running around, having sex in places that the others pass by every day, oblivious to their filthy acts, is that it’s Keith with him. He’s as solid as a stone in his character, and yet he opens up so easily when Lance pushes his cock to his lips.

Lance exhales and watches as Keith takes him down until the swollen head of Lance’s cock hits his throat. He’s not sure there’s any view on any planet in the universe that can compare to the image he sees then.

* * *

Lance indulges Keith because he’s a romantic. As a child, he counted down the days to his family’s next movie night. He would squish in between his siblings and parents and stare, wide-eyed and enchanted, at the love stories that played out on their small, flickering TV. He hates the story of Romeo and Juliet, but he wouldn’t mind finding that strong of a passion in someone else. One that won’t die, preferably.

One that’s Keith, preferably.

Keith is not a romantic. He goes full steam ahead into every action he does, only worrying about the past when it can affect his future. He is a perfectionist to a fault, and expects the same level of hard work that he puts into himself from everyone else; it’s unrealistic, pressuring, and before Lance got to know Keith on a personal level, it was downright scary.

Keith chases the Galra for the adrenaline and competition. Lance chases Keith for the thrill of riling him up, seeing the emotions flicker over his face at a mile per minute.

If he wasn’t the person that Keith went to at the end of the day, he wouldn’t be certain that Keith thought of him at all.

He is eternally grateful for the way Keith’s arms wrap around him and pull their chests flush. He’ll take what he can get; his parents did always tell him not to kick a gift horse in the mouth.

* * *

The most exquisite part of being with Keith is when he rips the blindfold off his eyes. He goes lax and liquid immediately, falling against Lance, hiding his face against his shoulder and mumbling wet words into his skin.

Lance is nothing but determined, however, no matter how exhausted Keith is, and it’s his mantra to make Keith warm every time they are together. Keith may say that he needs Lance’s palm to his ass in order to relieve his stress (because this is, in Keith’s words, only a way to relieve stress, and nothing more), but Lance thinks secretly that it’s the pleasure that keeps him coming back, not the pain.

Lance spreads his legs and guides Keith into him, stroking Keith’s cheeks and wiping away the tears that dribble over his cheeks.

When they’re finished, Lance bundles up Keith in a pile of blankets and pulls Keith’s back right up to his chest. This is Lance’s favourite position, and Keith must know that _this_ is what keeps Lance coming back, not the sex.

* * *

Lance shoves deeper into Keith, moaning against his nape. He muffles Keith’s noises by slipping his fingers into his mouth, holding down his tongue and silencing the cries that he so desperately wants to hear.

It’s dangerous to do this when the others are less than two rooms away. It’s dangerous to do it anywhere, really, but especially here. The thrill of it runs chills through Lance’s body, making him buck into Keith harder, faster. Lance isn’t worried about hurting him; Keith takes it easily. He’s stronger than he appears, and he already appears pretty tough.

He knows, logically, why this relationship shouldn’t be. They’re not compatible in the long term. It jeopardizes their ability to form Voltron. Relationships between co-workers are frowned upon for a reason. What would happen to their friendship, their teamwork, if their closeness caused a rift between them?

Lance comes inside him, breathing hard and loud. Keith sobs, a louder sound than Lance’s fingers can contain, and streams white over the ship’s walls.

Lance doesn’t feel bad for this. He should. But when Keith turns and kisses him, he can’t bring himself to care or worry about anything other than this.

* * *

They’ve never spoken about what they do out loud. Everything is wordless. Lance doesn’t verbally ask to do things like tie Keith up or bend him over; he uses his hands and, when Keith is pliant and open like a book, his actions. Talking would break the silence, and the silence is what strings them together.

After all, all of their arguments are caused by talking. Keith is the best part about being stuck in space. Lance doesn’t want to ruin that; by talking, or with his feelings, or by doing anything other than what they’ve quietly agreed to.

Lance gauges the way Keith’s breathing shifts. It speeds when he’s waiting in anticipation, for Lance’s next move while his eyes are covered, or the crooking of his fingers inside his ass, preparing him for Lance’s cock. It slows after his release, when he’s spent and finished and gone to the world. It stops when Lance kisses him, slow and sweet.

Lance presses his index finger lightly to Keith’s throat. Keith’s breathing hurries, and then he nods, and that’s all the confirmation that Lance needs.

Lance is a romantic, an optimist, a mood maker. He has to look at the bright side of things, or else he’ll never escape the weight of his own emotions.

Keith is with him, and no one else. He tells himself that until he falls asleep, and again when he wakes up to an empty bed.

* * *

Keith wants this. He has to, or else he wouldn’t do it; Keith is not the type of person to consistently do something he hates. He doesn’t have the patience or virtue to do such.

Lance thrusts in and Keith shakes, whimpering against the gag. There’s drool sliding over his jaw, tears in his eyes, and pink marks on his neck. Lance twists his hand around Keith’s cock and Keith comes so hard he gets a muscle ache after.

Keith wants this. But Lance wants _Keith_ : spread out, unrestrained, and beautiful.

The only time he ever speaks is when they kiss, open-mouthed. There, he can whisper an _I love you_ that’s never heard.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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